Session 15 – The Sadder Souls

Bounty hunters. I knew now based on the sounds of shouts that there was more than one. Maybe four or five. They’d come in a squad and probably had me surrounded. I brought up the bars and tried to find any visual indication which way the dogs had gone. There was nothing. No obvious arrows.

I flinched as something hit the wall behind me and dirt sprayed. My mind repeated that this wasn’t a real war but now the stupid thought had hit me and I wasn’t drunk enough to ignore it, I couldn’t relax.

A second wall was shoveled up to my left. The hole I sat in grew deeper after earth shifted to the new location. They were barely three feet tall and about that wide. Enough to cower behind. That’s where I sat, huddled tightly and trying to find a way to help the dogs without getting myself murdered.

It wasn’t death that bothered me. The pain feedback hurt, of course, but I wanted to do one thing right. I found my chat window and typed “help” to anyone paying attention. Johnny might see. Rose might log on. I didn’t have time to sit, staring at a box and flipped away the window.

Next step, ask for closer help. “Come on Dari! Just stop being evil for a second and zap them away!” This fog had to be set by that cigar dropping. My clues had been the dogs sneezing and Trap being away. He’d probably noticed the material being set.

Dari didn’t respond and I’d already moved onto the next goal.

“Okay, next step. Don’t be where they’re shooting,” I whispered.

“Three o’clock!” one of them shouted, followed by a dog’s growl.

Putting up walls had been easy enough. Mana intensive because earth shaping skills were difficult to master, even for a theoretically mid-rank [Druid] like me. Especially one who’s only real spell usage revolved around healing. That’s all I’d done with this Friday, and small bolts.

I tossed out another one, shoveled mud to save mana, and prayed for a heavy rain.

Thunder rolled above me. My back tensed and I worried that even the brief thought of prayer, combined with my [Priest] classes, had resolute in rain.

Grass spouted in a wave around me. Hair on my arms stood up. The forest was responding to something and I felt sure it wasn’t me. I hadn’t done anything besides throw around a million healing spells. I flipped through my character sheet searching for options.

[Tranquil Skies] would bring down sunbeams that healed the area and damage undead. That was great but I wanted the thunder to turn into rain and it’d be a constant drain that rooted me in place. It’d also put beasts to sleep, and my pack might stop being aware enough to defend themselves. I flipped the spell away.

“Corners,” the man who’d spoken earlier shouted. “Ignore the damn dryad and get around him!” There were footsteps racing on either side of me. The dogs were quieter. I fiddled with the interface trying to get my bearings and pulled out my staff.

Dunking myself in the river would speed up my mana regeneration but water would slow down my movement. At higher ranks it’d be possible to earth shape a channel over here, but my abilities wouldn’t last long enough or reach that far. I’d been relying on the dogs too much for combat and now that their deaths would be real, I liked it less. I yanked up another spell and wondered what the heck [Natural Inversion] did.

Apparently, it made undead things live, and living things undead. I could turn this entire place into a rotting nightmare. The origin note at the bottom said something long winded about this being a reversal based spell. I vaguely remember tracking healing spells backwards and something happening, but I’d been too drunk to follow through.

Useful later, not now.

My stealth abilities were clearly useless because the bolts kept coming. A decoy would help. I flipped it away and pulled my tattered shirt over my head. It wrapped around the staff. [Illumination] triggered with a thought.

The staff made me an obvious target in all the smoke. I’d counted on that. They’d hit me not the dogs. A few seconds after pulling it out, bolts from the enemies grazed my coverage. One nicked my arm.

“Ow,” I said happily. “Please not the face.” Rampant area of effect healing spells sowed up the wound almost as soon as the pain registered.

“He’s wounded,” a shaky voice said from the side. His yelped as low growls came from his area.

“Girls! Behave.” The staff sort of looked like a person with the jeweled hilt glowing proudly. A man who’s face was bright like the sun poking through clouds. Ball and Chain continued to continued to snarl lowly as they tore into the poor hunter. “Or don’t,” I muttered. “Stay here. Get killed. See if I care.”

No one important had died yet.

Another bolt slammed into the dirt. It clicked as the tip turned redder. That wouldn’t be good. I waved my ranged healing spell toward the girls and took off in the other direction, straight for the water. My dog’s health went down and back up almost immediately.

I longed for the old game’s method of health bars and auto targeting which made a healers job easier. Behind me the projectile exploded.

The smoke should be clearer there as it was an open area. My mana would regenerate.

I stuck the staff out behind me then ran, hoping they’d focus on the light and miss my form a few feet in front of it.

Smoky air clung to me like flour. Both eyes watered. The staff trailed behind, held aloft by an armpit and braced hand. My other arm curled in front of me, warding off anything I might crash into.

Trees gave way with barely a brush. This path had to be wrong. There’d been no darn trees between me and the river. I paused. One of the bounty hunters came flying out of the darkness with a mace over his head.

His wide eyes glowed despite the smoke. “Here!”

“There!” I responded then tilted in a new direction. His overhead swing descended upon the glowing staff instead of my face. The shock sent me stumbling. My stumble turned into a roll. Down I went, trying to steady myself but failing.

My body slammed into something nearly solid. Pain lanced up my shoulder. The surface gave way. My eyes closed. Water filled into my mouth and ears. Both eyes burned when I attempted to open them.

I’d found the river.

Loud splashing pierced through my muffled hearing. The dog’s barks felt like distant echoes from miles away. Men screamed and I hoped Ball and Chain had picked a weaker enemy to pincer. The smoke had thinned but not enough for my liking. Sleepy had almost no health. The [Staff of Thaddeus] glowed at the hill. I couldn’t figure out where Ball and Chain were anymore. Sarge’s steady barks had turned into panic.

“Run away guys. Come on! Don’t stay here for me. I’ll be fine.”

No one listened to me.

Our battle had gone to shit. These Bounty Hunters were prepared for me, as a [Druid], with dogs. They’d brought equal number. I’d gathered they distracted Nem’s autopilot somehow. If it weren’t my excessive healing spamming, the pack would be digitally deceased and my head would be on it’s way back to the queen.

“Sarge. Sarge. Leave me behind. It’s fine I swear.”

I’d heard those words before. I’d heard those damnable words before and the mere thought of it made my chest seize. They were putting themselves at risk because of me.

They weren’t real. They were just digital pets. They were real. I’d been enjoying myself, relaxing by the river moments before.

“Fuck this game!” I yelled while running for the staff. If I could pick it up, if I could wave it around, the Bounty Hunters would be distracted and maybe this time Sarge would listen.

The first bounty hunter met me at the staff. I swung it badly, letting the weapon clatter into him. He braced for impact and I dove for his legs, sending him spiraling to the ground. Bottles at his waste burst. Strange orders filled the air. Something inside his back belt pocket popped.

“I’ll have your head on a pike!” he said between grunts.

Heavy thudding shook the ground and bounced off the trees.

“The giant’s loose!” said a second person that stepped out from behind a tree. Their smoke faded as I tried to keep the first guys body between me and the loaded projectile.

The man I was wrestling with went wide eyed. “Damn Travelers.”

I couldn’t remember much besides the basics of fighting someone on the ground. Pull hair. Get a grip around the neck. Grab onto buttons and belts. Shove fingers in their eyeballs. Bite. Everything was fair in war.

“Two’s down. Three’s pinned.”

“Get him off me!” the man I fought yelled.

The thudding in the distance grew louder. My teeth ached with each fall. It sounded like a giant was lumbering toward us at a steady pace.

“Friday?” the babyish voice of StoneMason echoed.

He would arrive while I was trying to die heroically to save the dogs. My eyes tightened clear tears and dirt.

“Get the dogs out of here!” I demanded.

“Friday?”

He acted like he hadn’t heard me. “Get Sarge and the,” an elbow cut me off.

His loud rumbling footsteps shook the earth. It had to be a skill, or maybe me being given sensations due to this being my grove. It didn’t matter because I could tell StoneMason was charging toward the small barricades I’d been hiding at moments before.

My foe scrambled away and getting to his feet faster than I could. “Quick!” he said while limping. “Prepare the-”

“Heads up!” StoneMason shouted over the bounty hunter’s words. A hand quickly wiped away dirt to get a better view on what was happening.

A tree sailed through the air overhead. Thick branches knocked the man to one side. He cried out in pain as he hit the ground and tumbled again.

“There’s more,” I yelled with a hoarse voice.

The giant either didn’t hear me, or didn’t care. He turned toward another foe that appeared out of nowhere. He had thick gloves on his hands that probably weighed a ton.

StoneMason pulled another tree out of magical player inventory and swung. His long makeshift club cracked and splintered a once living tree and kept right on going. The bounty hunter I had barely noticed seen pressed both hands to his chest. His body flashed golden right as the tree impacted his chest. He went flying straight into another tree. StoneMason’s club fell to pieces.

“Seriously?” I questioned. They were destroying my grove.

The baby-faced giant still didn’t hear me or seem to care. He discarded his leftover trunk without hesitation and ran for the lead hunter. The man I’d been wrestling with limped fast, one hand pressed to his side like his ass might fall off.

StoneMason won, tackling him to the ground. A second later he had him pinned and punched repeatedly without regard.

“That’s two down,” StoneMason shouted. He thumped the hunter’s face again, turning it into greater mush. He stood up with both fists raised above him like a prize-fighter.

“Anyone else?” he asked while looking around.

I stared at the carnage. Dogs limped into a circle. Sarge’s lighter fur dripped with blood. Ball and Chain were down on the ground whimpering softly. Sleepy’s health bar had been worse but I couldn’t find him.

My eyes closed. It was too real. I’d seen that exact scene earlier this week. An explosion in someone’s house where one family member made it. The other, hadn’t. My stomach curled.

“Is that it? A bunch of numbered bounty hunters? That’s boring.”

Nem’s autopilot walked to our riverside gathering leisurely, with Sleepy in her arms. His whiter fur was an utter mess and the longer hairs had matted together in nasty looking clumps. I took two breathes then cast every healing spell I could find on the mess of dogs.

“You should have run,” I said.

Sleepy didn’t respond. [Animal Understanding] felt muted and dim. My ears still rang from the water and these clothes clung to my skin. The foggy white powder seeped through the fabric and itched.

My own problems would wait. I kept going until my mana ran dry. The dogs weren’t healing at high speeds. Something about the material clinging to them lowered the effectiveness of all my spells. I motioned for Nem to bring Sleepy over to the river and tried to rinse him off while renewing the spells.

It worked, but poorly.

“This place is a mess,” StoneMason shouted.

“What’s wrong with you?” I mouthed.

“Deafened by a spell!” he yelled. “No control over my voice. These guys were prepared. It’s why I hate bounty hunters. They almost always have a bunch of low rank counters to everything. Look at all those traps they set up.”

StoneMason gestured to the mess of our field. There were a lot of sprung bear traps in the woods. Some had rabbits, others sticks or pieces of fur. The dead man he’d pounded to mush oozed and popped making Ball and Chain flinch. They slunk over to the river with Sleepy and rubbed against Sarge.

They were an utter mess. Fighting undead had been miles easier, especially when my healing basically defeated them all for us.

“Hate it. Realized I couldn’t hear birds but thought maybe I was in a zone. Just building a wall. Almost done too! I bet I’ll get something great when it’s done. Like a plus to stone masonry. Then I can be StoneMason the stone mason.”

His rambling kept resetting my brain. That coupled with a heartbeat that thrummed too fast for my own liking. The dogs kept licking at me and their wet tongues were slimy compared to the water.

“Baths. Take baths,” I pointed at them. Sarge barked and nipped until Sleepy woke up and dipped a paw into the water. Ball and Chain stepped in then stood there letting the water swirl around them.

Their wounds might be healing slowly, but the liquid had to sting.

Nem’s autopilot kept quiet but took care of the animals with more tenderness than I would have imagined. She really did like dogs. If her autopilot was even half the woman the real Nem was, she’d be a great person. I’d have to ask her out for a trip to the river, with a drink, when there weren’t bounty hunters to turn the place into a disaster.

Knowing that the enemies were dead and my dogs were okay helped. Except only four of them were present and I’d forgotten something.

“What’s Trap?” I asked while shaking.

Sarge barked. He sounded proud but tired. Or tired but happy. I couldn’t process the chill that made him wag his tail and limp on a damaged paw the same time. He pawed at the air then turned around and walked away.

Nem stayed behind working with the other three dogs. StoneMason lumbered by me, one large meaty finger in his ear digging at it. He cracked his jaw then shook his head.

“Can’t hear a flipping thing. It’s like I’m underwater.”

I gave a thumbs up.

“Yeah! Maybe I can get like, a ninja skill. Quick, try to sneak up on me. If I can block you fifty times without looking, maybe it’ll qualify. I can be a Stone Faced Ninja.”

“Giant’s can’t be ninjas.”

He didn’t hear me and kept rambling about how I should try to stab him in the back while he wasn’t looking. I almost did, just to get him to shut up. Of course, his attempts at getting more skills reminded me how badly I’d failed to utilize mine. Running with the staff as a decoy might have worked, but it should have been easier to command trees to march upon my foes and eat them, or something.

I flipped through screens while shakily following Sarge. Finally, I landed upon one in gold.

Event!

Nature versus Nurture III

What’s better; to fight for yourself or let someone else do it for you?

Nurture might be building up your minions into a formidable army. It might come with skills to make sure those animals you spent time with truly listened to your orders.

Nature might be commanding the plants to fight for you. The very ground you walk upon could bend to your whims and overwhelm your enemies.

Really, it’s hard to say for sure until you explore both options. We’d give you a full list, but you’ve shown yourself to be the kind of Traveler who doesn’t care about numbers. Naturally.

So, until you pick one, nature might not listen to you, and nurturing might mean you’re still ignored. Choose. Or don’t. But don’t be fooled, not picking is also a choice…

If I read between the of my increasingly snarky event notices, this frustrating chain served as a focal point for all my issues during that fight. If I leaned one way, I could probably get spells to wear bark-like armor and command plants to swallow people into the earth. Or if I leaned the other, maybe Sarge would pay attention when I said “Run”.

As a player, both had appeal. As a person who simply wanted to get by, neither one meant more than the other. If this whole mess got out of hand I’d run my current character toward the queen’s town, get killed, then delete myself. That should wrap up the entire event with my head on pike and I’d start a new character.

The dogs would be okay with Nem. She could manage the grove if she cared to.

Sarge sneezed. I snapped out of the vanishing act I’d been contemplating and looked around.

StoneMason stood still as a statue. Sarge sat down slowly then shook his still hurting paw. In front of us was the missing fifth dog of our party. Trap had cornered the small faerie I’d forgotten all about in a corner. Rotten pieces of tree were on either side of Dari and one of his wings looked heavily damaged. Almost torn to shreds.

“I’ll eat your soul!” Dari shouted, throwing a stick at Trap’s snarling mug. The dog flinched then dove back into position, holding still and pointing his nose at Dari. The sprite kept rambling, throwing anything in range. “I’ll fill it with oil and deep fry it like one of those muddy human treats!”

Trap sneezed then resumed keeping the winged creature cornered.

Dari kept right on rambling. “Get back you filthy unshaven mutt. A pox on you.” He attempted to dodge to the left but Trap’s face followed him. “A pox on your mother and father! May their shits be runny and noses dead to the world. I’ll eat their hearts and wear their hides as slippers!”

Trap growled steadily. Sarge yipped a command. Dari shook. “That’s right, listen to your betters you bedwetting mop! Back those soiled mitts up before I step on them and send you fleeing with your tail tucked so tight it’s up your puckered anus.”

“What’s that!” StoneMason shouted.

“That’s a Dari. He’s all bark and no bite.” Not like my dogs, who were apparently mostly bite and nearly no barking. Minus growling.

His eyebrow lifted. “Do we need to kill it before it explodes? What’s it’s race?”

I’d forgotten the exact race. We weren’t friends anymore so all my insider knowledge had been removed. I struggled to recall details and ignore the gore pile. Something with a snake like hiss at the front that made zero sense.

“He’s a shade pixie, thing!”

StoneMason heard shouting.

“Holy magic!” he yelled immediately like I didn’t know darkness creature’s obvious weakness, or we weren’t standing next to each other. Besides, Dari didn’t pose much of a threat because Trap had him boxed in a corner.

“I’ll give your mother something to pray about you baby faced piece of pig iron! I’ll give you a beating so hard your crotch will turn to sand.”

I tried not to laugh and put up both hands. “Dari, you’ve got to calm down.”

“Calm? Calm? There’s no calm for me. Not until that saggy balled coward Friday pays,” and on he went, ranting about me this time.

“He doesn’t like you.” StoneMason said.

I almost responded before I realized that StoneMason could barely hear me. He might not even be able to hear Dari, but inferred his dislike based on the pixie’s frantic hoping, cursing, and repetitive use of the word Friday.

“I said, he doesn’t like you Friday!” StoneMason repeated.

“That’s right!” Dari pointed at me and his mouth dropped. The shouting stopped. A wing fluttered and Dari winced. His eyes watered briefly and then he spoke in a more subdued tone. “Friday? Friday is it you?”

My eyebrows lifted and both shoulders came up in a shrug.

“Yeah. It’s me. How do you guys put it. Same soul, new body?”

Trap stayed locked in place, ready to pounce.

Dari’s broken wings fluttered then fell. “Voices above. You look like sun baked shit.”

“Probably,” I started to say, but Dari abruptly fell down and rolled on the ground, clawing at his neck. His arms grew thick like overripe sausages. Thick black veins popped to the surface of his skin then wiggled.

“Friday! Sun touched coward. Thief. We’ll kill you. We’ll kill you.” He cursed while flopping wildly around. “We’ll rip out your still beating heart and feast on your life’s blood!”

My eyes tightened. I knew what that meant without needing quest boxes to tell me. Dari had been possessed somehow by the creatures I’d stolen from on an earlier character. I didn’t know how to stop it. Fingers traced the rune for a regeneration spell.

It might not be possible to even heal Dari, not with all my ranks. From what I vaguely remembered, he ignored most spells entirely.

“Cage!” Johnny shouted. Throwing something at StoneMason. It collided with him sending the giant back a few steps. He fumbled for a bit and managed to wrap his arms around birdcage a few feet tall.

“What’s this!” the giant asked.

I had a different concern. “Where the heck did you come from?”

Dari’s body bulged unhealthily. The ground under him went from dark and nasty to downright foul and grey.

Johnny shrugged then pointed at the cage. “Been here the whole time. Disarming traps. For free might I add. That cage? Fifteen gold per day.”

Where Johnny got the prison was beyond me, but it’d was exactly what we needed to contain Dari without killing him. I scooped up the faerie. It was that easy. I’d done it before, almost a year ago. His bloated body barely fit through the cage door. He cursed and clawed weakly at my fingers but I ignored the pain.

StoneMason snapped it shut and Dari passed out like a candleflame being snuffed.

The saddest thing about Dari is that he had nearly no ability to fight back. He’d been the same way when we first met. His wings broken, his eyes cloudy. He probably couldn’t entirely make out Trap but knew that a much larger monster had him pinned.

The giant popped his jaw and rolled his head around. “Now what?” StoneMason asked at a volume closer to normal.

“I need a drink.” My feet were already turning and staggering toward the player town.

“What about this guy?”

“Give it to Nem’s autopilot. Tell her to keep it somewhere safe until I figure out what to do.”

“You sure?”

“Johnny?”

“I’ll get him some food. Maybe a nice holly wreath. I think I can get her autopilot to get some rejuvenation enchanted flowers going around the area, that should keep Dari’s rot effect contained. My price is going up though.”

“Take the bounty hunters gear,” I offered.

StoneMason looked hurt.

“Done,” Johnny said.

I nodded. He could easily take care of it all and probably work with Nem’s autopilot without an issue. His expertise at failure and dealing with traps surpassed the dogs and nearly anyone in the starter town, despite his trash character stats due to dying too much.

He should be smart enough to put Dari somewhere underground, but with a torch or something. I made a tired note of it then tried to recall other details about my old companion. Whatever race Dari belonged to, they lived in a darker habitat. Not simply in light sources, but in terms of murkiness.

StoneMason stared at my retreating form. “There might be other ambushes.”

“Let them kill me,” I said with a wave.

He shouted after me, “If you’re okay dying, why did you fight at all?”

I said nothing and kept walking. Past one tree. Over the mess of dirt I’d reshaped. My clothes were a soggy tattered mess and without a shirt the bar might not even let me in. StoneMason caught up, still carrying the unconscious Dari in his bulky cage.

“Friday?” StoneMason said slowly.

“He only fought because he didn’t want the dogs to die,” Johnny offered. “They’re companions. Like that guy. Friday’s got a weak spot for them.”

Metal rattled. “This guy?”

“Him,” Johnny agreed. “There’s an entire history there.”

My eyes rolled. I’d probably explained more than intended while inebriated one weekend and Johnny simply remembered it all. Being a babbling drunk came with unwanted side effects, like Johnny knowing too much about me.

“Dari,” I said.

“Bless you?” StoneMason snorted.

I turned around briefly. StoneMason stood there, giant cage cradled against his bigger chest. Inside the small sprite lay, flopped against the thin bars. My shaking hand lifted to point at the dark winged creature. “That’s Dari. He’s a friend. Don’t hurt him.”

They shared an awkward glance with his tall head tilted down to see the much shorter figure. Finally, Johnny asked, “You going to be okay?”

Both shoulders lifted. Okay was a stretch for anyone at this age. I’d survive and move onward. I’d pretend the fight didn’t remind of being in combat. Or that Dari’s twisted existence and the dogs nearly dying weren’t all my fault. It was just a game. The drama didn’t matter.

Or, that’s what I told myself.

They left me to bind up the sprite in some hallow located in the grove. It should be safe enough. Dari on his own wasn’t dangerous. His abilities coupled with anyone who even tried a little bit, those were scary. That’s how I’d gotten through that entire Friday character. Slinking around and ambushing red eyed monsters who were closer to nightmares than regular animals.

I said nothing more until I reached the bar. Everything pulled at my shoulders until I felt like a bundle of knots. No, knot were probably less tense. Today had been up and down, and that bothered me. Being so close to a peaceful afternoon then that turning into a crud storm left me feeling dead inside.

The bar had too many people in it. A stranger elbowed me, and my drink sloshed to one side. I stared at the mug as those it’d betrayed me by letting any beer escape. Maybe it had. I punished the container by draining all the liquid inside and removed its purpose.

“So,” Rose said.

My eyes blinked slower than they should have. They couldn’t even blink at the same time. I kept trying while turning to find the young woman next to me. She had a drink of her own.

“So,” I echoed. “Soooooo.” That word sounded funny to me.

“You locked up a faerie.”

“Pixie. Technically. Regular faeries come in all sizes. Pixies though. Hand sized. Like that movie from forever ago but loud mouthed.”

The game saw fit to flash a [Knowledge] box up on my screen, which I knocked away. Getting validation about something I already knew was worthless.

“Because?”

“Because what?”

“What happened?”

“I’ve got a history of poor decision making skills and it constantly catches up with me. Or, life throws lemons at my head and I’ve been shit at dodging. That’s what happens when your dad doesn’t play catch with you.”

“Hey! Someone flag him down and get me a drink too.” Johnny waved a hand above the bar. There were too many people and the server had apparently been ignoring him.

“But bounty hunters?”

“From his time as the princesses boy toy,” Johnny added. “I’ll tell you all about it for a drink.”

I almost remembered that first Friday. He’d been a trader at an outpost. The princess had been this doe eyed stick of a girl that’d snuck out of the castle. Though girl was rude since she was closer to twenty five and clearly confused by all the scruffy people around us.

My successfully punished glass slid toward the bar tender. He swapped it out at high speeds and left Johnny dry. I eyed the new glass and wondered if it should be punished too. My eye pressed close to the lid, eying the frothy liquid. “Those were the days. When it was just me, the princess, an open prairie sky. Nary a soul around. Only she wasn’t a princess we were together.”

“She’s a queen now,” Johnny corrected.

“Right. Queen of two kingdoms. Long may she live.” I lifted my glass in a mock toast and pretended that virtual man’s death couldn’t bother me. “With my head on a pike to show her bouncing baby boy.”

“You mean your son. Friday’s practically royalty. Of two kingdoms.”

“You’re a father?”

“Sure. A shit father from a long line of shit fathers who’ll never amount to a damn thing.”

I ignored them and pressed my way out the door with my freshly filled cup. From there I wandered back to the grove and toward the battlefield we’d left behind. No one else bothered me, or maybe they realized I wanted to be left the heck alone.

There I sat in the woods staring at where the corpse had been. Sarge, the only one of my five dogs up for walking, had come with me. The earth still showed signs of being reformed into a mess of small walls. Ruined trees would take days or weeks of game time to recover. The ground stance with rot.

I sat on a fallen log, pulled out the [Vile Dram] and infused my drink for an extra kick. Despite the desire to blur the world, I sipped slowly. Sarge stared blankly. He didn’t seem to understand what the big fuss was about. None of the others had traveled out here with me. They were all resting after the battle.

Sarge groaned and rolled against my leg.

The day’s events hit abruptly. We’d killed people, ones that barely existed but knowing the twisted game their children would grow up hating me. All that, because a mistake from a prior incarnation of Friday had caught up once again.

My mug held no warmth. The liquid inside didn’t cool me on a hot day or provide an ounce of comfort. It simply sat empty and I couldn’t feel a thing from the [Vile Dram].

“Dari,” I mumbled trying to remember his original name from so many months ago. Eventually it registered. “Dari the Forgotten.”

And I had a son. Even money was on him growing up to be a shit father too. It’d be just like this damn game to let the real-world curse follow me here.